


Fine Art

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-16
Updated: 2004-07-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22860865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Draco finds Ron's sketchbook in the Prefect's Bathroom.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous





	Fine Art

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge: Fic combo, #47 Ron is an Artist, and #3 Prefect's Bathroom.

“Bloody Hell,” Ron cursed aloud, throwing his hands up in frustration. He was almost to Gryffindor Tower, but needed to turn around as he had left his sketchbook in the Prefect’s Bathroom after his bath. Sighing, he headed back - glad that at least no one could yell at him for wandering the halls so late at night. 

Too caught up in his own thoughts and worries to notice, Ron did not see Draco Malfoy as he slipped into the Prefect’s Bathroom down the corridor, where he promptly tripped over the very same sketchbook that Ron was coming to retrieve. “Sodding Gryffindors don’t even know how to clean up after themselves,” he growled, picking up the red and gold sketchbook. He wondered to whom it belonged, as the only Gryffindors that came to mind were not Prefects. 

Opening the sketchbook, he began leafing through the pages, quite taken with how stunning the sketches were. Whomever it belonged to was quite talented indeed. As Draco flipped through he noticed the drawings becoming more and more risqué: half dressed students, nude students, students in compromising situations. He highly doubted that they were drawn with the subject’s knowledge, especially when he came across several sketches of himself in various states of undress. 

Shocked and quite nearly outraged, Draco almost dropped the sketchbook, but decided to trudge on. He thought that the drawings might be done from imagination, but as he found even more sketches of himself, remembering exactly when and where he was when they had to have been drawn, he grew anxious. He had thought he was alone all those times, but thinking back he remembered having heard odd sounds every so often, so someone was there, but how? Whoever it was, no matter how talented they were, could not be anything but a peeping tom. 

Ron walked into the bathroom, freezing in his steps as he spotted Malfoy looking at his sketchbook. Shit. As he turned to leave, hoping to get the sketchbook later when Malfoy wasn’t around, his trainer squeaked, alerting Draco to his presence. 

“Weasel,” Draco drawled. “What brings you here this time of night?” 

“Er, came to take a bath,” Ron said quickly. 

“Really? Looks like you just got one. What did you do? Piss yourself?” Draco laughed, a smirk playing at his lips. 

“I… er… never mind. What have you got there?” Ron pointed non-chalantly to the sketchbook. 

“Someone’s drawings. They’re rather good, if illegal.”

“Illegal?” Ron swallowed. “How are they illegal?”

“Does it matter? I mean obviously they’re not yours. Like a Weasel could have the sort of talent found within these pages. Or are they?” Draco challenged. 

“No, definitely not mine. But I… uh… should take it back to Gryffindor Tower so it can get back to its rightful owner.” Ron reached for the sketchbook. 

“Really now? And what makes you so certain it belongs to a Gryffindor?” 

“I… fuck… Malfoy, just hand it over, ok?” Ron said testily. 

“Weasel’s getting all riled up over some sketches he hasn’t even seen. They are yours, aren’t they?” Draco sneered, stepping in close to Ron. “Maybe you should show them to your subjects, I’m sure they’d love to see how well you captured them.”

“They… they don’t know,” Ron whispered.

“What was that?”

“They don’t know. Now give it back,” Ron grasped the edge of the sketchbook, trying to pry it out of Draco’s hands. 

“I think not,” Draco yanked the book back, trapping Ron’s hands between his body and the book. “And just how, pray tell, is it that you got these sketches without people knowing?”

“Sod off, Malfoy, it’s none of your business!” Ron’s temper was quickly matching the colour of his face and hair. 

Draco snorted, “I rather think it is my business, since more than half of these are of me.” He pulled the sketchbook lower, the back of Ron’s hands now pressed against Draco’s cock. “I think someone has a bit of a crush. Tell me Weasel, do you enjoy drawing me nude? Do you wank off to these sketches, wishing you could have a bit of this?” He was enjoying watching Ron squirm in his attempt to exact revenge on the peeping tom. 

Ron bit his lip, trying to prevent himself from saying something stupid. “No, that’s not it at all.”

“Oh? Then tell me, what has you so interested in drawing me? I realize I’m very fit and all, but really, if you wanted to draw me all you needed to do was ask.”

“Really?” Ron squeaked. 

“Yes really. I would have said no, but I wouldn’t have had to find out like this,” Draco smirked. “Now, you never did answer my question. Just how did you go about this without anyone seeing you?”

“I have my ways,” Ron said, trying to remain calm, his cock stirring from his prolonged closeness and contact with Malfoy. 

“And what ways are those?” Draco was getting rather annoyed. “If you don’t tell me, you’ll have to tell my solicitor.”

“You have a solicitor?” Ron swallowed again, his face wrinkling in concern for his own welfare. 

Draco rolled his eyes, “Yes I have my own solicitor. Don’t you? Oh, wait; I’m sure your parents can’t even afford one for themselves, let alone one just for you. Such a pity.”

Ron clenched his hands into semi-fists as he was still gripping the sketchbook. Draco’s cock stirred under the movement and Ron jumped back with a yelp. 

“For someone who draws me while I’m in the shower wanking, you sure are jumpy about my parts,” he teased, taking a step towards Ron, inching closer and closer until Ron backed up against the wall. Dropping the sketchbook to the tiled floor, Draco pressed himself against Ron, chuckling as his cock hardened. “Seems you’re enjoying this more than you’ve been letting on.”

“No… no I haven’t,” Ron lied. 

“Oh, you haven’t, have you?” Draco ground his hips against Ron’s, eliciting a moan from him. Raising his eyebrows, Draco let his tongue slide along the edge of his lips. “So, if I were to do this,” he licked along Ron’s jaw, “you wouldn’t enjoy it?” 

“No,” Ron shook his head vigourously, his entire body tensing and his cock straining against his trousers. 

“Or how about this?” Draco tugged at Ron’s left earlobe with his teeth, his tongue flicking at the soft flesh. 

“No.” Ron gulped, he needed to get out of there, now, before he did something else he might regret. 

“Or this?” Draco pressed his lips to Ron’s mouth, his tongue quickly snaking its way in, his hips grinding against Ron’s, trying to see how far he could push the boy before he snapped. Pulling back he smirked, “Thought not.” 

Draco turned to leave, only to find himself pressed against the wall and Ron’s mouth attacking his own. Large freckled hands gripped his hips, holding him still as Ron pulled back, gasping for breath. 

“I thought you didn’t fancy me,” Draco said, matter-of-factly. 

“I lied,” Ron panted. 

“No shi-,” Draco was cut off by Ron’s tongue stroking his own. He wrapped his fingers in Ron’s hair, holding him close as his tongue battled for control of the kiss. 

Ron, encouraged by Draco’s eagerness, let his hands roam across Draco’s body, pinching his nipples through his clothing; letting his fingers dip below the waistline of his trousers before tugging at their clothes, trying to disrobe without breaking the kiss. 

“Fuck, Weasel,” Draco groaned, as they simultaneously pulled off their shirts. Ron kicked aside their trousers to avoid getting tangled in them and pressed against Draco, enjoying the feel of skin on skin, cock against cock. 

“Ron.”

“Weasel.”

“Malfoy.”

“Fine then. Ron,” Malfoy spat. 

“That’s more like it,” Ron said, trailing kisses along Draco’s jaw, shoulder and down his chest. He toyed with Draco’s nipples before moving downward, his tongue dipping in and swirling around Draco’s navel, lightly biting at his flesh. Ron dropped to his knees and kissed along Draco’s thighs before tonguing his slit and taking the head into his mouth. He couldn’t begin to count the number of times he’d envisioned this as he watched Draco stroke himself, sketching the scene with his left hand while his right stroked his own erection. 

A small giggle was heard and Draco’s eyes shot open as he looked wildly about the room. Across from them the mermaid hid behind her tail, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she watched the two boys from her portrait. 

“Wea- Ron. Ron! RON!” Draco shouted, though Ron paid no heed to Draco and assumed the boy was just enjoying the feeling of a warm mouth around his cock, as Ron swirled his tongue around the length, his hand cupping Draco’s balls. Draco gave up on warning Ron against the mermaid as he came, Ron expertly swallowing down his seed. Draco wondered how exactly Ron learned to suck cock so well, but could not maintain focus as he felt Ron’s mouth move and he quickly found himself facing the wall, Ron’s tongue probing his arsehole, pumping in and out and wiggling side to side, stretching him. After several moments, he felt the chilly air brush across his entrance before Ron spit into his hand, slicking his cock with the saliva. 

Ron pressed his cock into Draco, slowly sheathing himself inside of him, his hands bracing himself against the wall. Ron traced the shell of Draco’s ear with his tongue, grinning as Draco shivered beneath him. He built up a steady rhythm, pounding into Draco, his breath tickling his neck. As he felt himself nearing completion, Ron called out, “Draco,” only to wake, tangled in his sheets with Seamus and Harry smirking over him. 

“Have a good dream there, mate?” Harry asked. 

“Sounds like it to me. Real good, at that. Did you stain your sheets while you were at it?” Seamus teased. 

Ron pulled his sheets over his head and groaned. “Sod off. What are you two doing up anyways?” 

“Oh,” Harry said, he looked at Seamus

“Malfoy brought this by, said you left it in the Prefect’s Bathroom.” Seamus finished, handing him a red and gold sketchbook.


End file.
